Goodbye, Abby Series: Bravo Yankee Echo
by AnonymousNCISFan
Summary: The second in a series of short stories about Abby's eminent departure. This story takes a darker look at one possibility for Abby's exit from the perspective of the Gibbs/Abby relationship (which is sorely missing in Season 15). Lots of angst ahead... Warning: Major Character Death!
1. Chapter 1-Just Breathe

**Goodbye, Abby: Bravo Yankee Echo**

 **Author: AnonymousNCISFan  
Rating: T (PG-13)**

 **Summary: NEW SERIES! The second in a series of one-shots about how Abby might possibly leave. The focus is definitely on the Gibbs/Abby relationship, which sadly has been pushed aside this season. I don't necessarily want to see any of these scenarios play out on-screen but think each one would have significant emotional impact.**

 **Main Pairing: Gibbs/Abby friendship**

 **Spoilers: Up to & including Season 15 **

**Warnings: This story contains lots of angst and a major character death – be warned!**

 **Disclaimer: I do not own these characters and am making no money off this – I appreciate the creative minds at NCIS and the brilliant actors who bring these beloved characters to life.**

 **Goodbye, Abby: Bravo Yankee Echo**

 **Chapter 1: Just Breathe**

 **Author's Notes: This story takes a darker spin on Abby's exit, told in 3-4 chapters (hopefully!) Lots of callbacks, lots of Gibbs angst. Feedback is much appreciated!**

Gibbs straightened his tie and cufflinks, pacing outside the door nervously. He felt out of place, out of sorts and out of options. He was amazed that her brothers had allowed this – although he really shouldn't have been. They shared Abby's kind and forgiving heart. The door opened slowly as Kyle Davis and Luca Sciuto emerged from inside.

"Whenever you're ready," Luca said softly, patting Gibbs on the back. Seeing the pain in their eyes – and unable to shake the feeling that he had put that pain there – Gibbs nodded and looked away, walking inside the room, closing the door behind him. He remembered his words to McGee on his wedding day – _"Just breathe."_ He suddenly flashed to a time not long ago, when Abby had hugged him fiercely, almost distraught that a faulty test she performed years ago had imprisoned an innocent man.

" _Why do I feel like … like I can't breathe?"_

Now it was Gibbs who struggled to take in air as he walked into the chilled room. Letting out a shallow breath, he looked around. Black flowers adorned almost every corner. The photographs made his heart ache. He winced as he caught a glimpse of the chestnut wood.

"Abbs…" he sighed in a shaky voice, forcing himself to move forward. His shoes were shined, his suit a charcoal black, his white shirt pressed perfectly. His hair was combed into a part on the side, the slicked-back silver neatly trimmed but still longer than usual. His badge hung tight on his belt, a black band across it in honor of her. She wasn't an agent, but it didn't matter. She was family.

When he could walk no further, Gibbs stood at attention, forcing himself to look down at the sight below. Her clothing was nothing unusual from her daily routine – her favorite black dress adorned by the rosary around her neck. Her hair was up in pigtails, the makeup giving a false flush on her cheeks. Eyes closed, it seemed almost as if she was sleeping, he thought. Hell, she'd slept in that coffin for nearly two decades – it was only fitting that it be her final resting place.

" _You have no idea how much I wish it was yesterday …"_

Her words to him in his basement eight years ago echoed back, haunting him. Seeing her stillness – and its permanence – caused him to drop to his knees on the kneeler below.

"I know … I know you were trying to save me," he started, having trouble finding his voice.

Gibbs closed his eyes, pulling the badge from his belt, caressing it gently. It was his life, but he didn't want it anymore.

"Yours now," he whispered, placing the gold shield gently under her clasped hands. He ran his calloused fingers over hers, looking to feel her warmth one last time. The coldness he was met with sent a chill down his spine.

"Why'd you go and do that?" he whispered, his stony exterior beginning to crack. "Why'd you go and risk your life? You shouldn't have … why'd you have to…" He trailed off as he thought of her words from another time when she had been willing to risk her career – and her life - for him.

" _You're Gibbs. I owe you everything. I am willing to do_ _anything_ _for you."_

He could still see the desperation in her eyes as she'd looked at him that day, and despite seeing him for what he was – a killer – sought to protect him anyway. It scared him then … it broke his heart now.

And then there was Paraguay. It had all come crashing down after his return from those three long months in captivity. He avoided her, out of shame or guilt he didn't know. They'd drifted apart. And then Sloane entered his life. He befriended her, took an interest … then he broke Rule 12. Again. All the while, he'd been missing the signs.

"Never meant to hurt you," he whispered, running his fingers lightly across her cheek.

It had all happened so fast. Abby caught his eye in the parking garage as she was about to get into her car and head home for the evening. She called his name and his chest tightened. As she walked to meet him by his truck, he looked down, almost afraid of what she would say after months of silence. He'd kept their conversations short and limited to a phone call or video chat about the latest case. They'd occasionally pass each other in halls or the bullpen, but never said more than a few words. He knew she was trying to respect his space, even though it was breaking her heart.

Gibbs could feel Abby's stare as she approached, and he finally relented, looking up. It was the first time he'd really seen her in months. She looked pale, tired, and sad. He braced himself, waiting for the anger to pour out of her.

" _I miss you."_

He was shocked by her gentleness. She missed him, and he couldn't find words to reply.

" _I love you."_

She loved him, and still he remained silent and stoic.

" _Just tell me what I did to deserve this."_

She hadn't done anything. It was all his own doing, his insecurities, his guilt. But he didn't tell her that either.

" _Gibbs…"_

It was the last thing she said before the chaos took hold. He saw her eyes widen, felt a presence from behind. Then a scream as he was pushed to the ground. A Hispanic man dressed in black pointed his weapon at Gibbs, who was now lying on the ground. The barrel of the gun looked a mile long. Instinctively, he reached for his own weapon, despite knowing it probably wouldn't matter. The assailant kicked him in the face as he reached back, and in that split second Gibbs heard a shot ring out. When he felt nothing, he looked up in shock, weapon in hand.

" _Stupid bitch."_

Gibbs winced at the sound of the assailant's harsh words and his heart dropped as he realized what had happened. Abby was lying on top of his attacker, who forcefully shoved her off his body. He saw the blood, he saw Abby's eyes, glazed over and frightened.

 _BAM! BAM! BAM! BAM! BAM! BAM! BAM!_

Gibbs emptied his clip into the assailant without a thought, watching him fall lifeless to the ground. He followed procedure out of habit, moving to the dead man and kicking away his gun, making sure he was no longer a threat. Then his attention shifted four feet to the left.

" _Abby…"_

He rushed to cover her wound, but knew it wouldn't matter.

" _Just breath…Just keep breathing…"_

He wanted to tell her he was sorry. He wanted to tell her he'd been hiding from her all this time because he was afraid – afraid he had failed her when he was captured back in Paraguay, and brought McGee down with him. He wanted to tell her he loved her – that he always would. But the words caught in his throat.

" _Just keep breathing…"_

It's all he could say as she looked into his eyes one last time and let out her final breath. Her own eyes remained hauntingly open yet distant. He knew she was gone.

" _No ... please … no…"_

Gibbs' gut churned and he turned away, emptying his stomach on the pavement. Shocked and ashamed, he wiped his mouth angrily, crawling back to her body. It had to be a nightmare, he thought. He would wake up any minute, and he would call her, make things right …

But as the seconds turned into minutes, Gibbs realized he was wide awake. Closing her eyes gently, unable to look at her face, he turned away, catching a glimpse of an envelope that stuck out of her coat pocket. He knew it was a crime scene, knew he shouldn't tamper, but this was Abby, and he needed to know.

" _What…"_

The envelope was addressed to NCIS Director Leon Vance. He didn't need to open it to know what was inside. But he did anyway. It was a letter of resignation.

" _No…no…"_

In anger, without thinking, he crumpled the paper and threw it. How long had she been carrying it around, he wondered. It was a mere four lines, with no explanation, but Gibbs knew he was at least partly to blame. She loved her job, was one of the top in her field, and had turned down plenty of other offers over the years. He knew what a difficult decision that must've been – one she was obviously still debating. Maybe that's why she'd come to him – to find a reason to stay.

Rubbing a hand over his face, he stood up and removed his jacket, placing it over Abby's body. The rest of the night – and the four days that followed – were a blur.

He'd called it in to Vance and watched as the team processed the scene in silent devastation. Though he made sure one piece of evidence never saw the light of day. Not wanting the team to know that Abby would ever consider leaving – realizing it would only add to their pain - he found the letter and placed it in his pocket, allowing it to become his own private torment.

He'd glared through the state prison's two-way glass as McGee and Torres confronted the man who had put out the hit on him – Javier Martinez, former head of La Vida Mala. Martinez had tried to kill a little girl – Elena - and her father, Jose Ruiz, who were trying to escape the horrors of San Salvador. He had smugly arrested Martinez in a church, confident that he had him dead to rights with Ruiz's testimony. As Gibbs listened to Martinez ramble about the long reach of La Vida Mala, he lost control. Gibbs dislocated his shoulder in a fit of rage as he barged into the interrogation room, throttling Martinez until McGee and Torres pulled him off.

He'd gone home to a house that somehow felt even emptier than before. He'd sat on his couch, unable to cry or grieve. After a day went by, Sloane visited, but he refused to speak. Instead, he'd slept with her, but felt no relief. He'd gotten drunk in his basement and passed out for half a day under his nearly finished boat. That's where Kyle and Luca had found him, pulled him out and begged him to honor their sister's memory.

And now he stood at her coffin in disbelief. She was gone. And he was left. Left with no way to make things right. His own resignation letter sat in his breast pocket, ready to be delivered upon his return to D.C.

" _Just tell me what I did to deserve this. Gibbs..."_

He couldn't stop the words from reverberating in his mind. All she had done was love him. And what had it gotten her?

"Should've been me," he whispered, leaning in close. "I was supposed to keep you safe … you didn't deserve this."

Placing a gentle kiss on her forehead, Gibbs was suddenly struck by the quiet. He couldn't remember a time when he'd been in the same room with her and been met with such utter silence. In that moment, his mind began to process what he lost.

For the first time since he buried Shannon and Kelly, Gibbs found himself unable to hold off his grief. He shut his eyes tight, resting his head on the edge of the coffin, and began to sob. It was so unfamiliar to him, so shocking, this storm of emotion that he normally never let take full hold of him. But now he couldn't gain control. He had always been the strong one, but now he had no one to be strong for.

Outside the door, Abby's brothers could hear Gibbs' sobs and looked at one another.

"Think we should check on him?" Kyle asked in a worried tone.

Luca shook his head. "Give him a few minutes."

Kyle pulled a piece of paper from his pocket, unfolding it gently.

"He needs to see this," Kyle sighed.

"I know," Luca replied, sitting on a couch nearby and removing his glasses to wipe his bloodshot eyes. "Give him a minute. Then we'll get to the hard part."

 **TO BE CONTINUED…**


	2. Chapter 2-More Than DNA

**Goodbye, Abby: Bravo Yankee Echo**

 **Author: AnonymousNCISFan  
Rating: T (PG-13)**

 **Summary: NEW SERIES! The second in a series of one-shots about how Abby might possibly leave. I don't necessarily want to see any of these scenarios play out on-screen but think each one would have significant emotional impact.**

 **Main Pairing: Gibbs/Abby friendship**

 **Spoilers: Up to & including Season 15 **

**Warnings: This story contains lots of angst and a major character death – be warned!**

 **Disclaimer: I do not own these characters and am making no money off this – I appreciate the creative minds at NCIS and the brilliant actors who bring these beloved characters to life.**

 **Goodbye, Abby: Bravo Yankee Echo**

 **Chapter 2: More Than DNA**

 **Author's Notes: Thank you for sticking with this – I promise some twists (and sweet moments) ahead despite the sadness! Please read and review – feedback is much appreciated!**

Abby's brothers sat quietly in the parlor just outside the main room of the funeral home. Kyle stared at the paper in front of him, anxiously trying to distract himself from the sobs of the man behind the closed door. Neither brother had anticipated this reaction.

"Should we go in now?" Kyle asked, wiping tears from his own eyes.

Luca looked at his watch, fighting back his own tears. "We've got some time. Let him be."

"Gibbs sounds really broken up," Kyle commented, folding the paper gently.

"Yea," Luca said, a tenseness in his tone. "Where was this guy six months ago?"

"Luca," Kyle sighed, moving to sit next to him. "We talked about this. We promised to honor Abby's wishes – she'd want us to be here for him."

"I know. And I am. But I grew up with Abby, I know her – _knew_ her - better than anyone, better than _him_. And what he did to her this past year … the 3AM phone calls when he was missing, and later when he came back but … but he didn't come back to _her_. I'm a pretty positive guy, but he-"

"She _died_ for him," Kyle pointed out. "Gotta count for something. Abby wouldn't want-"

"I know!" Luca said in a raised voice, aggravated as he threw his arms in the air. "And she shouldn't have! But I know what Gibbs means to her, and I'll honor that. For her. But after this is over, he needs to know what he did. I'm gonna show him."

"Luca, no-"

Suddenly, the door opened. They looked up to see Gibbs standing before them, face flushed and eyes red from crying. They wondered how much, if any, of their conversation he'd heard. Shocked at the sight, Kyle walked over to Gibbs, pulling him in for a hug.

"Don't," Gibbs rasped, moving away. "I … it's my fault."

"Gibbs, you-"

"Just stay away from me, OK? You'll be safer."

As Gibbs turned to walk away, Kyle grabbed his arm, stopping him.

"Wait," he insisted, and Gibbs turned. He was struck by how much Kyle looked like his sister and felt his heart lurch – he had Abby's eyes. "I owe you, Gibbs. Abby never would've found me if it wasn't for you. And I'm grateful. Which is partly why I need to give you this."

Kyle pulled the folded piece of paper from his pocket and handed it to Gibbs.

"I found this in her apartment," Kyle explained. "Think she'd want you to have it."

Gibbs eyed the paper, taking it hesitantly. "Why?" he asked in a whisper.

"Gibbs, I _know_ … Abby told me you'd been ... well, that you and Abby…"

Gibbs looked away, breathing a heavy sigh. "I know, I failed her," he said, his voice cracking.

"You didn't," Kyle said strongly. Gibbs looked up, confused. "All she ever wanted was for you to be happy."

"But I shouldn't have-"

"She loved you, no matter what," Kyle rasped. "You need to know that. And she wouldn't want you to give up."

Gibbs swallowed hard and nodded, knowing he would ignore her brother's words once he got back to D.C. Kyle could sense his distance and persisted.

"Gibbs, that paper … just come sit down with me and we can look at it together, make some sense of it."

"No, no, I … I n-need to do this alone," Gibbs stuttered uncharacteristically, putting the paper in his pocket. Kyle gave him a worried look and was about to protest when Luca stood up and moved toward them.

"When my sister told me we were adopted," Luca began, "she said family's more than DNA. Said _you_ told her that. Family's not an easy thing sometimes – and yea, there's some things we're gonna need to work out when this is over - but family's all we have. And you're still family, Gibbs. Like it or not. No matter what."

Gibbs shook his head. "I'm so sorry, boys," he whispered, a tear running down his cheek. "I just … I can't…"

Turning quickly, Gibbs walked away, rushing outside as the two men shared a concerned look.

"We have to go after him," Kyle said. "He doesn't know… I should be there."

Luca grabbed his arm, pulling him back. "We can't, Kyle. We have an obligation – to Abby, to her friends. The wake's about to start. Gibbs is gonna have to figure this out on his own."

"She wouldn't want that," Kyle insisted.

"She'd want us to respect his wishes," Luca replied. "Abby always respected his space, and we have to, too, Kyle. We _have to_. It's his decision now."

Sighing in resignation, Kyle nodded. Luca put his arm around his shoulder and guided them back into the parlor.

Outside the funeral home, Gibbs walked swiftly through the parking lot, making it to his truck. He was about to get in when he noticed a small red streak across the bottom of the driver's side door. Abby's blood.

"Goddamnit!" he yelled, slamming the door shut and leaning against it.

 _Just breathe._

Gibbs could almost hear Abby whispering those words to him. He thought back to the night of McGee's wedding…

 **May 9, 2017**

After the vows, Gibbs and Palmer had helped Delilah out of her wheelchair so McGee could hold her for their first dance. His agent flashed him a smile and nodded to the watch Gibbs had given him with the inscription: " _Just breathe, Tim."_ Feeling a hand on his shoulder, Gibbs looked up to see Abby smiling back at him. He gave her a grin.

"That was really sweet, what you did," she whispered.

Gibbs shrugged. "Just a watch."

"Your father's watch," she corrected, pushing a finger playfully into his chest. "You have no idea how much that means to Tim."

He looked down sheepishly, not wanting to get sentimental. "You OK?" he asked gently, his eyes saying everything his words left out. Gibbs knew her history with McGee and was well aware that, even though their romantic relationship had ended years ago, it wasn't easy letting him go.

"Yea," she rasped, tearing up. "Delilah's so good for him … she's amazing…"

"So are you," he whispered, kissing her lightly on the cheek. "Even if you did ruin their surprise." She gasped and lightly slapped his arm as he winked at her.

"C'mon, let's join the happy couple!" Palmer announced, encouraging everyone to grab a partner and dance. Abby laughed as she watched Reeves and Torres get stood up by Bishop and Quinn, who chose to dance with each other instead. Giving a shrug, the two "tough guys" of the team decided to do the same, and Gibbs laughed out loud.

"You should do that more often," Abby said, smirking at his questioning look. "Laugh, Gibbs. You need to laugh more."

Shaking his head, he held out his hand. "C'mon."

"Are you asking me to dance?" she replied with a smile, taking his hand.

He didn't respond as he simply pulled her close and she settled into his arms with ease. As they moved to the music, Gibbs could sense a melancholy sadness settling over her.

"Abbs?"

"I'm OK," she sighed, whispering into his ear. "It's just … when I was a kid our school had this father/daughter dance every year. And as it grew closer, I'd listen to all my friends talk about what they were gonna wear, how excited their dads were … and I … I wanted to disappear."

She felt Gibbs nod and hold her tighter as she continued.

"I'd go to the science lab during lunch and I'd spend the whole afternoon there, losing myself in experiments and books. Science was my escape … and it became my passion, but it could never make up for … for what was lost." She tucked her head into his shoulder as she let a few tears escape.

"I'm sorry," he rasped, swallowing as he felt tears burning his own eyes.

"No," she said strongly, looking up. "It's OK. It hurt like hell to lose my dad so young … and later my mom … well, you were there for that … but it made me who I am today, and I've made peace with it. And more than that, I thank God every day that he gave me you, Gibbs."

She reached into a hidden pocket in her dress – the same dress she would later wear in death - and pulled out something Gibbs recognized.

"This is for you," she said gently, opening his hand and placing the object in it. "It's not much … but you know what it means to me."

"Abbs," he whispered, "what for?"

"Well," she shrugged, "weddings are a time when we celebrate life, and the people closest to us. Just wanted you to know how much you mean to me."

"Don't need this to know that," he replied. "Are you sure you?"

Abby nodded, closing his hand over it. "I'm sure."

Gibbs leaned down to kiss her forehead as the song ended, signing on her cheek, " _My girl."_ She smiled back, surprising him with a soft kiss on his cheek.

"Thanks for the dance," she whispered in his ear before moving away and walking toward McGee and Delilah.

Watching her go, Gibbs admired the perfect scene before him – his whole family together, safe, happy. It was a rare moment. He opened his hand and looked down at the object Abby had given him…

 **PRESENT DAY**

Gibbs leaned against his truck, staring up at the sky. He dug into his left pocket, pulling out the item Abby had given him almost a year ago.

"I didn't deserve this, Abbs," he whispered, fingering the object gently. It was the pink cloth heart of a Teddy Bear from Abby's childhood – her favorite bear. She'd loved it so much it fell apart, and the heart was all that was left. Gibbs had commented that she got the best part. Now it was his.

"I didn't deserve you," he sighed. He thought about the night of McGee's wedding – the last really good night he and Abby shared before the hell of Paraguay. He'd kept the heart with him through the whole ordeal. It was the heart that reminded him that Abby was back home, worried sick, probably on the verge of a breakdown over their loss. When they managed to get home, Gibbs felt unworthy of the gift she'd given – or rather, of what it represented. He'd gotten caught, gotten McGee caught, and they'd almost been killed. He felt like half a man, and certainly not the brave superhero she'd made him out to be in her mind. He didn't know how to face her, so he never did, and she never pushed. Because she loved him.

Shaking his head from his thoughts, Gibbs pulled the piece of paper Kyle had given him out of his pocket, slowly unfolding it. He closed his eyes, trying to brace himself for whatever the contents might hold…

 **TO BE CONTINUED…**


	3. Chapter 3-Pros & Cons

**Goodbye, Abby: Bravo Yankee Echo**

 **Author: AnonymousNCISFan  
Rating: T (PG-13)**

 **Summary: NEW SERIES! The second in a series of one-shots about how Abby might possibly leave. I don't necessarily want to see any of these scenarios play out on-screen but think each one would have significant emotional impact.**

 **Main Pairing: Gibbs/Abby friendship**

 **Spoilers: Up to & including Season 15 **

**Warnings: This story contains lots of angst and a major character death – be warned!**

 **Disclaimer: I do not own these characters and am making no money off this – I appreciate the creative minds at NCIS and the brilliant actors who bring these beloved characters to life.**

 **Goodbye, Abby: Bravo Yankee Echo**

 **Chapter 3: Pros & Cons**

Still leaning against his truck, Gibbs stared at the piece of paper Kyle had found in Abby's apartment. He blinked a few times, moving the paper back as he struggled to see it.

 _Glasses, Gibbs. You need your glasses._

With a sad grin, Gibbs pulled his glasses from his breast pocket, glad he could still remember Abby's voice enough to hear it in his mind. He refocused, his heart pounding harder as he saw her handwriting, and an article below it:

 _Kayla Bruckmann, March 1, 1991 – Heart transplant recipient_

Confused, Gibbs' brow furrowed, unsure of what he was looking at. He continued to read Abby's note on the top of the article.

 _Joann Fielding – 757-555-2739_

His mother-in-law's name and number – Shannon's mother.

"What did you do?" he breathed out loud, moving to sit on the pavement as he continued reading.

 _ **Tell Gibbs? – Pros & Cons**_

 ** _Pros:_**

 ** _1\. Their death was not in vain_**

 ** _2\. Could be like getting a part of them back_**

 ** _3\. Kelly (and Shannon) live on_**

 ** _Cons_**

 ** _1\. Heartbroken all over again_**

 ** _2\. Anger (at me for prying or just in general)_**

 ** _3\. Could end up resenting Kayla_**

 ** _4\. Dredging up bad memories_**

As he began to piece together what Abby had discovered, he winced. This was not what he'd expected. When Kyle handed him the paper, Gibbs thought it was perhaps a letter she wrote to him – some parting words, or a reassurance that she knew he still loved her. Instead, it was the culmination of research she'd kept hidden from him. Had she stumbled upon it? Or had she sought it out? How would he ever know?

 _Does it really matter?_ He heard Abby ask the question simply in his mind.

"Damn right it matters," he growled, conflicted.

 _Just breathe._

Gibbs closed his eyes and took a breath, trying to process this new discovery as he read the small news clipping that was printed onto the paper below Abby's remarks.

 _ **Oceanside Teen Receives Life-Saving Gift on Birthday**_

 _ **By Tyler Austin**_

 _ **March 18, 1991**_

 _ **After years of searching for a donor, the family of 13-year-old Kayla Bruckmann finally received some good news last week – a match was found for the teen whose heart had been failing since birth.**_

 _ **Diagnosed with an atrial septal defect, as well as other more recent complications, Bruckmann successfully came through the operation, which was performed on her birthday, March 1. Officials at Tri City hospital declined to name the donor out of respect for the family's privacy, although one official noted the heart came from a young girl.**_

 _ **Bruckmann, an only child, expressed her gratitude and wished she could thank the family of the person who had given her a second chance at life.**_

" _ **I feel great," the teen commented after the surgery. "I just want to make a difference somehow. Maybe become a doctor or a vet, or anything to help other people."**_

As Gibbs came to the end of the article, he swiftly pulled out his flip phone and dialed. Trying to get hold of his emotions, he took deep breaths, using his past training to keep calm.

"Joann? It's Jethro," he rasped.

"Jethro … So good to hear from you. It's been too long. Is everything alright?"

"Not really," he whispered. "You talk to ... to an Abby Sciuto recently?"

"Well, Jethro, I-"

"Don't lie to me, Joann."

"Oh, Jethro, where are you? Maybe we could meet and-"

"I need answers _now_ ," he said, his voice rough with emotion. He could hear Joann sigh on the other end.

"Well, Abby knows everything. Really sweet girl. Have you spoken to her?"

"She's dead," Gibbs replied, his voice breaking.

"Oh no … Oh, Jethro, I'm so sorry. I know how much she cared for you. We had some nice talks …"

"Joann," he rasped, "just tell me the truth. How'd she find out? Why'd you keep this a secret?"

"Please, slow down. We should do this in person. Where are-"

"No, you tell me everything _right now_ ," he demanded, his temper rising. He heard Joann take a shaky breath, sniffling. A part of him felt sorry for badgering her – she was near 90 and not in the best of health. But these were his girls, and he had to know the truth.

"Jethro," she began, her voice heavy with emotion, "when our girls … when we lost them … you were in Kuwait. Mac and I were the only ones left who could make any decision on their behalf. And it had to be made quickly. So we did."

"What decision?" Gibbs asked, reliving the agony of their loss, and how he wasn't there for his wife and daughter when they needed him most.

"You must know," Joann answered in a shaky voice. "You're calling me – what did you find?"

"Joann, will you just be straight with me?!"

"It's about the girl who got Kelly's heart, isn't it?" she replied sadly.

Gibbs closed his eyes, swallowing hard. "Yea," he rasped. "A, um … Kayla Bruckmann…"

"No one was supposed to know," she explained. "We had a choice … we never told you because … because …"

"Joann?" he pressed.

"Because I was angry with you for not being there for our girls," she admitted sadly. "I didn't know if you would be happy or upset about it, but at the time I didn't give a damn. Everything I cared for was about to be put six feet underground. So if there was a chance for one of them to live on in someone else, I was going to take it – and I did. And then so much time had passed that I couldn't tell you. I am sorry Jethro, and I'm sorrier you found out this way."

Gibbs wiped his face, taking another deep breath. "How'd Abby find out?" he asked, his voice pained.

"She called me about a year ago," Joann explained. "Said she was helping a friend with research on transplant cases when she came across the article. How she put it together, I don't know, except that she seemed to really care about our girls. She told me about a plate Kelly made for you when she was eight, how she helped save some of their old tape recordings to you while you were deployed. I could hear in her voice how deep her affections were for you, Jethro."

"That's how you knew about Paraguay…" he remarked, recalling how Joann had reached out to him shortly after his return. "Why … why keep this from me?"

"I told you, I-"

"Not you. Abby. She talked to you, confided in you?"

"It was a few phone calls, Jethro. That's all. And she was torn up over the whole thing. Poor girl didn't know what to do. In the end I guess she felt it would be too painful for you."

Gibbs rubbed a hand over his face, wondering if maybe she would've felt differently had he not avoided her after Paraguay.

"Jethro … Jethro are you still there?"

"Yea," he rasped, blinking back tears. "Look I'm - I'm sorry I put this on ya. Didn't mean to dredge all this up. Just landed in my lap."

"If there's anything I can do … where are you?"

"New Orleans," he sighed. "Her funeral's tomorrow."

"I wish I'd known sooner. I would've been there. I-"

"It's fine, Joann," he said quickly, needing to get off the phone.

"You don't sound fine, Jethro. Look, I know I wasn't there for you when our girls … and maybe it's too late for that now. But don't close yourself off to everyone. You need to grieve … I don't think any of us really did that for Shannon and Kelly. But you have to … and now for that dear girl … oh, Jethro…"

"I'll be alright," Gibbs rasped, trying to convince himself as much as Joann. "Gotta go."

"Well, you call me if you need anything – I mean that."

"Thanks, Joann," he whispered as he hung up. Letting out a deep breath, Gibbs stared at the picture of Kayla and her parents that was embedded in the article. He couldn't wrap his mind around the fact that this little girl had his daughter's heart, or that she wasn't so little any more – probably close to 40 years old. Old enough to have had a chance to see her dreams to fulfillment.

Gibbs' eyes widened as he noticed more of Abby's handwriting just below the article. It was an address and telephone number. He knew right away what it meant – Abby had tracked Kayla down.

"That's a lot of responsibility," said a nearby voice. Gibbs looked up to see Kyle standing over him. He went to get up, but Kyle squatted down, sitting next to him.

"She tell you about this?" Gibbs asked, squinting.

"No," Kyle replied. "But when I found it I knew I had to give it to you. I mean, the way you found me was through organ donation … Abby and I wouldn't have ever known each other otherwise. But you made sure your team tracked me down, gave her my name and work address, and encouraged her to meet me."

"That was different," Gibbs replied sadly. "You were her brother. Couldn't imagine not knowing your own brother or sister. Just wanted to make it right."

"Yea, but this girl, she has your daughter's heart. That's gotta mean something."

"No," Gibbs said, taking in a shaky breath. "No, it doesn't."

"Abby thought it might," Kyle countered. "It's why she kept that piece of paper tucked in her dresser drawer."

"Shouldn't you be inside?" Gibbs rasped, looking away, not wanting to see the hurt look on the young man's face.

"Luca thinks so," he sighed. "But I think Abby would want me to be right here. She's gone, Gibbs, but she's left behind so much for us. Maybe this is her gift to you."

"Gift?" Gibbs questioned, tears blurring his vision. "She should've just let me die. That would've been a better gift."

"But she didn't," Kyle replied strongly, putting a hand on his shoulder. He pulled away when Gibbs winced. "Sorry, I-"

"Just some pain - dislocated it last week."

"How?"

"Beating the crap out of the guy responsible for all this," Gibbs replied, half-laughing through his tears.

Kyle smiled, nodding in approval. "Noticed your badge in there … that's a mighty big gesture, at least that's what your agents told me."

"Not a gesture," Gibbs replied.

"You're quitting?"

"Retiring," Gibbs said in a corrective tone. "This whole thing … it's on me. Something's wrong, you try to make it right."

"And what about your team? They're in there right now trying to pick up the pieces. Tim is a wreck. Ducky hasn't said a word since he came in – and I've heard that's completely against his personality. Everyone else is walking around in disbelief, like zombies or something. You think leaving will make this right? Nothing can, Gibbs. Abby's gone and-"

Kyle stopped, his voice catching in his throat. Gibbs turned to see him bury his face in his hands and begin to cry.

"Hey," Gibbs whispered, putting an arm around him. His heart ached, both at the sight of Kyle's grief and at the many memories he had of holding Abby just like this.

"I'm sorry," Kyle muttered, lifting his head up and wiping his eyes. "Just … really gonna miss her."

"Me too," Gibbs rasped, frowning.

"Then don't let her death be in vain," Kyle implored. "Whatever you decide, do it because it's what's best for _you_ , not to punish yourself over this. Maybe you can't imagine finding happiness, but Abby would want you to find peace."

Gibbs let out a heavy sigh, clasping his hands together and putting them behind his head.

"You should get back," Gibbs said, avoiding his gaze.

"OK," Kyle replied, somewhat dejected as he stood up.

"And Kyle?" He stopped, looking back at Gibbs. "Thanks."

Kyle gave him a sad smile. "Oh, Gibbs," he added. "Dwayne Pride's lookin' for ya. Said to drop by when you're ready. He's got a bar now, not far from here."

"Yea, yea, I know the place," Gibbs said in a low voice, conflicted over whether he wanted to see his old friend and partner. He'd spoken to Pride over the phone, told him about Abby, and realized he was hurting almost as much. Pride knew her family a bit, and adored Abby in ways Gibbs never could because he was from the same hometown and embodies that big-hearted New Orleans charm and grace just like Abby did.

"OK," Kyle said, jarring Gibbs from his thoughts. "See you tomorrow?"

"I'll be there," Gibbs reassured him. He couldn't face his friends right now, but knew he also couldn't miss Abby's funeral. "And I'll…I'll think about this," he added, holding up the paper. "I mean that."

"See you tomorrow, Gibbs," Kyle nodded, walking back to the funeral home. Gibbs loosened his tie and got into his truck, starting the engine and making his way for parts unknown. A long drive was just what he needed to get his thoughts together and wrap his mind around what was next.

 **TO BE CONTINUED…**

 _ **Author's Notes:**_ _ **So how do you think Abby made the connection? In my mind, she saw the location and the date – Oceanside is located very close to Camp Pendleton, where Shannon and Kelly were living when they were murdered. Also, in the article she found years ago about their murder, it said they died on February 29, 1991, as did their tombstones (although this day never existed – 1991 was not a leap year – so I guess continuity error on the show's part LOL). But going with the show's "canon," March 1 would be very close to when they passed. The article Abby found later on said the heart came from a "young girl," which may've been the final straw for Abby to look further. I really liked the idea of her connecting with Joann – I always thought Abby would've gotten along great with Shannon and Kelly, so to have her connect to Shannon's mom was important to me. Looking forward to everyone's thoughts/feedback – was this a twist or did you somehow see it coming? Do you think Gibbs will confide in Pride? Will he retire? Will he try to find Kayla Bruckmann? Hoping to answer all these questions in the next installment. Feedback is much appreciated!**_


	4. Chapter 4-Looking for an Answer

**Goodbye, Abby: Bravo Yankee Echo**

 **Author: AnonymousNCISFan  
Rating: T (PG-13)**

 **Summary: NEW SERIES! The second in a series of one-shots about how Abby might possibly leave. I don't necessarily want to see any of these scenarios play out on-screen but think each one would have significant emotional impact.**

 **Main Pairing: Gibbs/Abby friendship**

 **Spoilers: Up to & including Season 15 **

**Warnings: This story contains lots of angst and a major character death – be warned!**

 **Disclaimer: I do not own these characters and am making no money off this – I appreciate the creative minds at NCIS and the brilliant actors who bring these beloved characters to life.**

 **Goodbye, Abby: Bravo Yankee Echo**

 **Chapter 4: Looking for an Answer**

 **Author's Notes: OK, this story is going to be a bit longer than I thought LOL. Warning – this chapter goes to some dark places of grief, but only to try and process what Gibbs, et al. are going through. A part of the story features the song "Looking for an Answer" by Linkin Park – it's only on YouTube, but if you get a chance and want to really understand the scene, give it a listen.**

 **New Orleans**

 **7:53PM**

Gibbs' flip phone buzzed loudly on the passenger seat, the name "SLOANE" flashing across the small screen. Gibbs winced and ignored the sound as he drove through the streets of New Orleans during twilight.

Eyes brimming with unshed tears, Gibbs pulled up to a pier near the river and got out of his truck. The sky was bright pink, with shades of gold casting over the water as the sun began to disappear into the horizon.

"Quite a sight, isn't it, my brother?" a familiar voice said, moving beside him.

"Hey, King," Gibbs replied in an almost inaudible voice, using Pride's nickname. He was slightly unnerved that his old friend had managed not only to find him, but to also sneak up on him. He was truly off his game.

"Thought you would've had enough road trippin' yesterday," Pride commented. "Missed ya after the funeral."

"Yea, had to clear my head," Gibbs sighed, leaning on one of the railings at the dock.

"I understand. Missed a hell of a celebration after, though. You know how we do it down here in the Big Easy."

"Celebration," Gibbs half-laughed grimly. "Of what? A life cut short?"

"A life lived to the fullest," Pride replied, patting his friend's back. "You and me both know that girl never wasted a second. Loved life so fiercely she was nearly burstin' with energy and enthusiasm. That kinda life _most especially_ ought to be celebrated."

When he continued to be met with silence as Gibbs stared far off into the distance, Pride tried another approach.

"That, uh, Agent Sloane … she seems helpful," Pride offered. "Had a nice conversation; seems right worried about you. We all are."

Gibbs remained silent, looking away at the mention of Sloane's name. Pride sighed heavily, but refused to give up on his old friend.

"So, how 'bout a drink on me? Hell, the whole bar is mine, so why not? I could shut the whole place down and we could shoot the breeze if you'd like. What do ya say?"

"Tried that – didn't work, Dwayne," Gibbs answered. "Tried sex too," he added with a regretful laugh, "and then my boat … nothin' works anymore. Think I've reached my limit."

Pride gave him a worried look, putting an arm around him. "Look, I understand-"

"You don't," Gibbs replied in a biting tone, shaking him off.

"You know, you're not the only one who's lost somethin' here," Pride said, becoming agitated. "I loved Abby, too. Looked after her family best I could while she stuck with you up in D.C. Even helped her with her Aunt Gert's funeral last summer, when you were … well, anyway, I would've done anything for that girl. Used to tease her, how I'd steal her away and get her back where she belonged."

"You make her an offer?" Gibbs asked, his voice dark, shooting Pride an angry gaze. He wondered if that's why Abby had written that resignation letter – was she leaving for NOLA?

"Nothin' serious," Pride said, giving Gibbs a confused look. "What's goin' on, Gibbs? What happened?"

Gibbs pursed his lips, turning back to look at the water. "She was gonna resign," he whispered. "Found a letter in her pocket right after…"

"Abby? Resign? I don't believe it. She'd never leave that lab of hers – she'd never leave you."

"Look, I found the damn letter, Dwayne! What do you want me to say?!"

"OK, OK…" Pride replied, putting his hands up. "Well, if she was comin' home, I hadn't heard about it…Must've had a good reason …"

"Yea," Gibbs rasped. "Her boss was being a bastard."

"Vance? I know he can get a bee in his bonnet when things get tight, but-."

"Talkin' 'bout _me_ , Dwayne," Gibbs growled, pointing to his own chest. "I screwed up."

Pride narrowed his gaze, gripping Gibbs' arm. "Come on, brother. Just let it out."

"I just … I don't … it's not enough…"

"What's not enough?"

Gibbs closed his eyes, shaking his head. Swallowing, Pride fought back his own tears as he gestured toward his car.

"How 'bout that drink, for old times' sake?" Pride asked pleadingly.

Gibbs sighed in resignation, knowing his friend wouldn't leave him alone right now.

 **The "R" Bar**

 **Half An Hour Later**

"So what do you think?" Pride asked, bringing Gibbs in through the back room to give him a bit of privacy. The bar was hopping with people and lively music. The team – past and present - was there. McGee, Bishop and DiNozzo – who'd taken red-eye from Paris - were sitting at a table, deep in conversation. Ducky and Palmer were standing in the corner by the band. Reeves and Torres were playing darts off to the side while Sloane, Vance and former FBI Agent Tobias Fornell sat at the bar with Abby's brothers. Other people Gibbs had seen at the funeral were scattered throughout – musicians from the band Abby liked so much – the Sterile Puppets - and even three nuns in full habit - her bowling partners – had gathered. Gibbs recognized Sr. Rosita, who had an electric guitar in hand as she spoke with the Sterile Puppets lead singer.

"You doin' OK?" Pride asked, worried it was too much for his friend. He'd closed the bar to all but those who were there for Abby's funeral.

"Everyone's here," Gibbs whispered, turning around and sitting at the small table in the back room, away from the crowd.

"Yea, I uh … I wasn't kidding when I said I'd shut the bar down. I actually did. Thought it'd be nice to have a safe space to go to after…well…"

Gibbs' heart was racing as he felt the anxiety building. The funeral had been hard enough. He sat in the back, away from everyone. He didn't say a word, just listened to her brothers – and McGee - give heartfelt eulogies. At the graveside, he did the same, only coming forward to place a black rose on Abby's coffin and, after watching it be lowered into the ground, throw a handful of dirt into the grave. No one dared speak to him, except Sloane, who begged Gibbs to join the team after. Gibbs declined quietly, saying he needed time to himself. He pulled away from her; he knew he was wrecking yet another chance at happiness, but he didn't feel like he deserved it.

"Gibbs?" Pride called, pulling him from the memories of earlier that day. He set a half-full glass of bourbon in front of him.

"Thanks," he whispered, taking a sip. Pride sat across from him, eyeing him closely.

"You've never been much of a talker, Gibbs, but you gotta let this out. I know you've been through worse, but I've never seen ya this down."

Pride was met with more silence as Gibbs continued to contemplatively sip his bourbon.

"Doesn't have to be me, Gibbs. If you wanna get Tobias in here, talk it over with him, be my guest."

"No," Gibbs choked out, the liquor burning the back of his throat. "Tobias has enough problems of his own. And most of 'em are my fault."

"Always the martyr," Pride commented with a smirk. He was met with more silence as Gibbs' eyes darkened.

"I keep wonderin'," Pride continued, "keep wonderin' what Mike Franks would say to you right now."

"Probably to get my head outta my ass," Gibbs half-laughed, his expression still grim. Pride laughed with him, nodding in agreement.

"Franks sure had a way with words," Pride noted, looking sad at the memory of their former mentor. "Just wish I knew what to say. Maybe this'll just have to do."

Pride reached across the table, holding an object in his hand. The reflection off the metal caught Gibbs' eye.

"What …"

"You need this," Pride insisted, handing Gibbs back his badge.

"I left it there for a reason," Gibbs growled.

"And I'm givin' it back," Pride replied matter-of-factly. "You need to make that decision with a clear head. So take it."

"They put you up to this?" Gibbs asked in a weary voice, referring to his team.

"No," Pride said, "but I know it's what they'd want. It's what Abby would want. Man, I can't imagine how you're feelin' and I know you're probably blamin' yourself, but you gotta remember why we do this – it's who we are. You can't throw that away so easily."

Gibbs nodded, looking at the shield, knowing the importance it represented. Taking it from Pride, he put it in his suit pocket. Pride smiled, reaching over to pat Gibbs on the arm.

"It's gonna be alright," Pride said, trying to reassure him. "And I'll tell ya, Gibbs, I'm not much of a religious man, but I sure do feel Abby in the air here tonight – in the music and the laughter, and the tears - don't think she'll ever leave us. Think maybe we just gained ourselves another guardian angel."

"Never wanted one," Gibbs rasped.

"Sorry, brother… poor choice of words," Pride began, realizing the irony in his words. Abby had died protecting Gibbs – she literally was his guardian angel even in life.

Both men sat in silence for a few moments, until suddenly, they heard the bar quiet as someone took to the microphone.

"It's an honor to be here, honoring the life of Abby Sciuto," the male voice said. Gibbs and Pride looked at each other, then Pride got up to see what was going on. He noticed a tattooed man with short, dark-purple hair on stage and recognized him – it was Barry Trident, drummer of the Sterile Puppets. Pride smiled, looking back at Gibbs, who continued to stare down into his drink.

"Now," Barry continued, "I'd like to invite one of Abby's former co-workers – and best friends – up here for a little tribute. Tony DiNozzo, c'mon up, brother!"

DiNozzo swallowed, downing the last of his drink and clearing his throat as he got up and made his way onto the stage, sitting at the piano.

"Look, I know we're all lookin' for answers tonight," Barry said, becoming more serious. "Answers for why this happened … why Abby was taken from us so soon … but sometimes … sometimes we have to admit to ourselves that maybe there's no answers, except what we know to be true in our hearts. And sometimes to get through the grief, we've gotta face it head-on, speak its truth. That's what this song did to me the other day when I heard it. Maybe it'll do the same for you. Tony…"

DiNozzo began playing a few minor chords as Barry began to sing:

 **There's an emptiness tonight.**

 **A hole that wasn't there before.**

 **And I keep reaching for the light.**

 **But I can't find it anymore.**

As Gibbs sat alone at the table, drink in hand, the lyrics began to permeate him. It was as if someone had stolen his thoughts and put them to paper.

 **There's an emptiness tonight.**

 **A heavy hand that pulls me down.**

 **They say it's gonna be alright.**

 **But can't begin to tell me how.**

Gibbs swallowed hard at those words, feeling the truth of them deeply.

 **And I ask myself out loud:**

 **Have I been lost all along?**

 **Was there something I could say or something I should not have done?**

 **Was I lost all along?**

The sting of those questions pierced Gibbs' heart. He wondered if it was some kind of cruel joke, Pride bringing him here just to listen to this. And yet he continued to listen.

 **Was I looking for an answer when there never really was one?**

 **Was I looking for an answer when there never really was one?**

Maybe he put too much pressure on Abby, he thought. He'd always looked to her for answers, and she'd given them, rattling off scientific knowledge like it was second nature. But the real answer he'd been looking for – how he could possibly fill the hole in his life left by the death of his wife and daughter – that answer always eluded him. He'd thought for a time that he'd found it in Abby – she'd even asked him once to tell her how much she'd been like a daughter to him. When he saw her, he saw Kelly. But now, he thought, maybe it was unfair to make her that answer. Maybe there never really was one to begin with – maybe by trying to make her the answer he got her killed. And his heart twisted in regret.

 **Is there sunshine where you are?**

 **The way there was when you were here.**

Abby had been his sunshine on so many cloudy days. He knew how much joy she got out of making him smile, bringing some lightness into an otherwise very dark line of work. He didn't know if he could find that light again. It was why he wanted to quit NCIS. He couldn't stand the thought of her not being there to bring that light.

 **Cause I'm just sitting in the dark.**

 **In disbelief that this is real.**

 **In disbelief that this is real.**

Listening to Barry's voice crack at the last lyric, Gibbs blinked, a tear ran down his cheek. Despite seeing it with his own eyes, Gibbs couldn't believe she was gone. If he went back to work, he'd have to face that reality every day.

 **Have I been lost all along?**

 **Was there something I could say or something I should not have done.**

 **Was I lost all along?**

 **Was I looking for an answer when there never really was one?**

 **Was I looking for an answer when there never really was one?**

In the bar, there wasn't a dry eye in the house as the song ended. DiNozzo stood up from the piano and put an arm around Barry, leaning into the microphone.

"This, right here in this bar, _this_ is why Abby Sciuto is the coolest person I've ever met in my life," DiNozzo said, his voice rough with emotion. "Look around. Look at all these amazing people from all walks of life. We've got cops and bikers, rich and poor, nuns and rockers. All here, together, because of one person. It's what Abby dreamed about – no barriers, no hate, just people helping each other get through the daily grind of life. She did that for me – she was always there."

Gibbs closed his eyes, listening as his former agent did what he could not – express the depth of his love for his friend.

"When I left my job at NCIS," DiNozzo continued, "she hugged me in that typical Sciuto fashion – practically squeezing the life out of me."

Everyone laughed at his words, as they could all recall a time when Abby did the same to them. DiNozzo smiled as he resumed his reflection.

"She told me she was really gonna miss me, but I told her…" DiNozzo swallowed, struggling to keep composure. "I told her then, and I mean it even more now: 'Not half as much as I'm gonna miss you, Abby Sciuto.'"

Getting choked up, DiNozzo raised his glass. "A toast!" he declared. "To Abby Sciuto. Resident NCIS Forensic Specialist, heart and soul. A paradox wrapped in an oxymoron, smothered in contradictions and terms. And yes, she slept in a coffin. She wasn't afraid of death – she embraced it. Should teach us something," he remarked. "At the end of the day, she was really the happiest Goth … no," he corrected himself, "the happiest _scientist_ you'd ever meet. To Abby!"

"To Abby!" the crowd called, raising their glasses and taking a drink. Tears running down his face, Pride looked back to see an empty chair where Gibbs had been, the glass of bourbon empty. Gibbs was gone.

 **TO BE CONTINUED…**


	5. Chapter 5-Hiatus

**Goodbye, Abby: Bravo Yankee Echo**

 **Author: AnonymousNCISFan  
Rating: T (PG-13)**

 **Summary: NEW SERIES! The second in a series of one-shots about how Abby might possibly leave. I don't necessarily want to see any of these scenarios play out on-screen but think each one would have significant emotional impact.**

 **Main Pairing: Gibbs/Abby friendship**

 **Spoilers: Up to & including Season 15 **

**Warnings: This story contains lots of angst and a major character death – be warned!**

 **Disclaimer: I do not own these characters and am making no money off this – I appreciate the creative minds at NCIS and the brilliant actors who bring these beloved characters to life.**

 **Goodbye, Abby: Bravo Yankee Echo**

 **Chapter 5: Hiatus**

 **Author's Note: Keep a lookout for another "Easter Egg" - time for Gibbs to begin the healing process (hopefully!) Probably 1-2 more chapters to go - I'll have to see where my muse takes me :) Feedback is much appreciated!**

From the moment he left Pride's bar in New Orleans, Gibbs had gone off the grid. The entire team had combed the streets looking for him. McGee found a note under the windshield wipers of his rental car. It simply read:

 **Tim-**

 **Proud of you, proud of this team. You're in charge now. You got this. Don't look for me. (I mean it -** **no tracking** **, "Peeping Tim"). I'll find you…eventually.**

 **-Gibbs**

McGee showed the note to Vance and the team, and Pride and Fornell. Sloane had argued that Gibbs wasn't in his right mind, that they needed to find him, but McGee shut her down, saying Gibbs had done this before, that he needed space and could take care of himself – they had a job to do. He didn't know about their relationship – none of the team did, not even Vance. Not wanting to look like a jilted lover, Sloane begrudgingly agreed. As Gibbs had not made it clear if he was officially resigning or retired, Vance put in for Gibbs' unused leave time, of which he had about two months.

Now, one month later, several cases under their belt without Gibbs and Abby, the team was anxious and couldn't stop giving passing stares to the empty desk in the squad room. Moving on without Abby had been even harder, as the two "replacements" the feds sent them still couldn't handle the workload Abby was used to taking on. McGee found himself getting frustrated, snapping at the lab techs as he muttered that he would just do it himself. Spending so much time in Abby's lab was taking a toll on him, his heart aching from missing her and feeling abandoned by Gibbs, his father figure. And it was certainly impacting his time with Delilah and the twins, who barely saw him. They were his refuge, but shortened weekends and long work days kept pulling him away.

"Hey, Tim, we just got a call out – two dead marines at Rock Creek Park," Bishop announced as she strode into the lab to find McGee bent over a microscope.

"Seriously?" he sighed, looking up. "I'm still finishing up the evidence log on the Hutton case."

"I know," Bishop replied, giving him an understanding glance. "Look, if you want, Torres and I can take this – divide and conquer."

"No, no, I'm the team leader, I should go," Tim sighed.

"Where's Carter and Hitch?" Bishop asked, referring to the two new forensic techs that had been trying to fill the void in the lab.

"Carter is down in the evidence garage still cataloguing those car parts. Hitch is … well, I sent him on a coffee run."

"Tim, you're swamped down here! Why would you-"

"Because he was doing it all wrong!" McGee shouted, slamming his hand on the table. Looking at his watch – the one Gibbs had given him on his wedding day – he took a breath, then turned back to Bishop. "Sorry," he muttered. "Just been rough week."

"It's OK," she said, coming up next to him and rubbing his back. "Rough for all of us."

"You have no idea how bad I wanna search for Gibbs right now," he admitted. "Don't tell Torres," he added quickly, feeling slightly threatened by the alpha male of the group.

"Tim, you're a great leader. We'll figure it out. I can stay back and take care of this – you know I have some background in this kinda thing."

"OK," McGee sighed, handing her the evidence slides. "Thanks."

Watching the tired agent walk away, Bishop shook her head, looking around the lab. "We miss you Abby," she said out loud to the empty room. "Hope you're keepin' an eye on Gibbs … If you could find a way to get him to come home… we could really use him right now."

 **New York City**

 **Same Day**

Ducky sat at a table outside a small eatery in downtown New York City, sipping a cup of tea as he poured over the pages of his manuscript. It was mid-afternoon.

"Ah! Here we are!," he exclaimed as he underlined a paragraph on the page. "Why would Kasie cut out one of the most important parts of that New Orleans case? You remember, the one where the jealous husband shot his wife off a Mardi Gras float, right out of the clock at the corner of Bourbon Street."

Glancing up from his work, Ducky eyed his lunch companion, looking for a response. Receiving none, he continued.

"You know, that place has a remarkable history. Did you know that the French Quarter, founded in 1718, actually reflects the sensibilities of 18th century Spain? The finest architecture and-"

"Ah, give it a rest, Duck." Across the table, Gibbs, dressed in jeans and a hoodie, folded his arms, his eyes still far off.

"Well, Jethro," Ducky replied, happy to finally get a reply from his old friend, "what would you like to discuss? Perhaps this unseasonably cold New York weather, or the latest box scores?"

Again met with silence, Ducky sighed in agitation. Upon arriving back to New York after Abby's funeral, Ducky had been pleasantly surprised to see Gibbs crashing on his couch in the small apartment he was renting while he worked on his book. When McGee had initially shown him Gibbs' note, he feared the worst, but respected his need for privacy. The fact that Gibbs had chosen to stay with Ducky filled him with warmth and responsibility toward his old friend. Ducky knew it would be a challenge, and wasn't sure he was up for the task with his own deadline looming. As the days passed by, he realized that was part of why Gibbs had chosen to be with him – he wouldn't have time to badger him or ask a dozen questions. Any time he did make an attempt at conversation, it was quickly shut down. That had been fine for the first few days, but when days became weeks, and weeks became one month, Ducky's patience wore thin with his friend, who seemed to sleepwalk through the day in a haze of angst and depression.

Closing his manuscript, he looked at Gibbs intently from across the table.

"You know, Jethro, I grow tired of playing this little game," Ducky declared.

"Jeez, what are you, my ex-wife?" Gibbs spat, wishing he hadn't let Ducky convince him to leave the apartment.

"Well, that depends … of which were you thinking?" he asked with a smirk, trying to lighten the mood. "Look, you need some sun, a new perspective. And we need to talk. _Really_ talk."

"Not much to say," Gibbs shrugged, taking a sip of the coffee in front of him.

"Oh really?" Ducky challenged, leaning forward. "And just what do you hope to gain from this little silent retreat of yours? Some peace of mind? Closure, perhaps? Is it working for you, dear boy?"

"Don't shrink me, doc," Gibbs replied in a biting tone.

"Isn't that why you're here? Deep down … coming to your old friend's flat for a spot of relief and a kindly ear to listen? Well I am here, Jethro, and I have been listening, and your silence speaks volumes to me."

Gibbs broke into an unsettling laugh, getting up and leaving a $10 bill on the table.

"It's been real, Duck," he replied shortly, walking away. Ducky stared at him in shock, then felt his own anger take hold. Rising from the table, he chased after Gibbs with a swiftness neither of them expected, grabbing his arm as he caught up to him.

"Now you look here, Jethro," Ducky said, teeth clenched. "No one is begrudging you your grief. But you simply _cannot_ keep running from this. I _know_ what our dear Abigail meant to you, but staying holed up and shut away from the world – and those who love you ... you do a disservice to her memory."

Gibbs winced, feeling the sting of Ducky's words. Taking a deep breath, Ducky calmed, feeling tears well in his eyes.

"Abby made her choice," Ducky said simply. "When the danger was upon you both, she chose to save you. And I for one hope her choice was not made in vain. But that, of course, is up to you."

Patting Gibbs on the arm, Ducky turned, walking back to their table and away from his friend. He'd said his peace and now had to accept whatever decision Gibbs would make.

"I need to find her," Gibbs called out, still standing at his spot on the sidewalk. Ducky looked back at him through the crowds of people. Confused by his words, he watched as Gibbs slowly made his way back to the good doctor. Taking a piece of paper from his pocket, Gibbs handed it to him.

"What is this?" Ducky asked, adjusting his glasses.

"Kyle found it in Abby's apartment, after…" Gibbs trailed off, eyes red with unshed tears.

"Oh my … oh Jethro … you didn't know?"

Gibbs shook his head sadly.

"This must've been quite a shock."

"Yea," he whispered, looking away. "Tryin' to figure out what to do with it, what Abby wanted me to do with it."

"Well, the real question would seem to be, what do _you_ wish to do with it?"

"Already said it, Duck," Gibbs rasped. "I wanna find her. I don't know … maybe I'm just lookin' for somethin' that's not there. Maybe I'm doin' the same thing I did with Abby …"

"Replacing the irreplaceable?" Ducky posed. "Jethro, I don't believe Abby was a replacement for your daughter, though she may've filled that fatherly void which I know dwells deep in your heart."

Gibbs shifted uncomfortably at Ducky's sentimental words.

"You loved her," Ducky continued, "and you loved your daughter. And now with both of them gone … you're worried you will be using this young woman to fill the new empty space."

Nodding, Gibbs felt a tear escape and quickly brushed it away.

"How can I help?" Ducky asked.

"You, uh … you can accept my apology." Ducky's eyebrows raised at Gibbs' statement. "And you can come with me. If you're not too busy."

"Never too busy for an old friend," Ducky reassured him with a smile. "And to where are we headed?"

"Actually, about three blocks east," Gibbs laughed.

Ducky looked at the address at the bottom of the paper. "Ah, yes! I know the area well. Are you sure, Jethro?"

Gibbs nodded, swallowing the lump in his throat. Ducky smiled, patting him on the back as they gathered Ducky's manuscript, then walked down the busy sidewalk to their destination.

 **TO BE CONTINUED…**


	6. Chapter 6-One Step Forward

**Goodbye, Abby: Bravo Yankee Echo**

 **Author: AnonymousNCISFan  
Rating: T (PG-13)**

 **Summary: NEW SERIES! The second in a series of one-shots about how Abby might possibly leave. I don't necessarily want to see any of these scenarios play out on-screen but think each one would have significant emotional impact.**

 **Main Pairing: Gibbs/Abby friendship**

 **Spoilers: Up to & including Season 15 **

**Warnings: This story contains lots of angst and a major character death – be warned!**

 **Disclaimer: I do not own these characters and am making no money off this – I appreciate the creative minds at NCIS and the brilliant actors who bring these beloved characters to life.**

 **Goodbye, Abby: Bravo Yankee Echo**

 **Chapter 6: One Step Forward**

 _ **Author's Notes: I didn't intentionally steal this name from the upcoming episode – just really seemed to fit my chapter. Some more callbacks and another familiar face turns up in this chapter. Thank you for all the comments and for sticking with this story! As always, feedback is much appreciated!**_

 **NCIS Headquarters**

 **Washington, D.C.**

 **2:35PM**

Torres and McGee stood in the elevator with evidence bags in hand, making their way to the lab. They had just finished processing what looked to be a murder/suicide at Rock Creek Park, the callout Bishop had told McGee about earlier that morning.

"This is, uh, very tragic, but at least we don't have to go running down the streets lookin' for a perp," Torres said, breaking the silence.

"We don't know anything for sure, Nick," McGee corrected.

"Well, I'm just sayin', we found a gun, we found a knife. And we found a note."

"Yea, well, Rule 8 – never take anything for granted."

Torres nodded, giving McGee a skeptical look. "You know Gibbs isn't here, right? Those rules, they're nice, but you sometimes you just gotta go with your instincts."

"We're federal agents, we go _by the book_ , Torres," McGee replied.

"Oh, OK, OK… well, we _are_ going by the book. It took us four hours but we bagged and tagged _everything_ while Bishop got to stay in this nice, air conditioned building and-"

"You got a problem with the way I'm running this team?" McGee asked angrily.

"No, no, no, no," Torres backpedaled, holding up his hands. "Just sayin' it would be nice to get home before midnight for a change."

"Alright, alright, I will talk to Vance about the lab situation and we _will_ get back on track," McGee reassured him.

Torres slapped him on the back. "I love it when you take charge, _jefe_."

"Don't call me that," McGee said flatly as the elevator doors opened.

After dropping off the evidence, and giving both lab techs very specific instructions on processing, McGee left and pulled out his phone, scrolling through his contacts.

"Hey … Carol? Carol Wilson? It's Tim McGee…"

 **New York City**

 **Same Day**

 **2:35PM**

Ducky and Gibbs walked inside an office building, looking at a wall chart to find the headquarters for Bio-Stat Enterprises. Gibbs put on his glasses as the two men searched the sign.

"Here we are," Ducky said, pointing to the office number. "35th Floor, Room 228."

As they entered the elevator, Ducky eyed Gibbs. "I wouldn't try the emergency stop button here, Jethro. We may be stuck for hours."

Gibbs grinned, knowing Ducky was trying to break the tension. Gibbs was fidgeting, nervous and still wasn't sure how he would approach Kayla Bruckmann once he found her.

"It'll be alright," Ducky reassured him, patting his back.

' _Just breathe,'_ Gibbs thought to himself, letting out a long breath. He wondered with a smile if he should just engrave the saying on his own watch.

As the elevator doors opened, the two men made their way to room 228 and were greeted by a young woman at reception.

"May I help you, gentlemen?" she asked.

Ducky stepped forward, smiling. "Yes, we're looking for someone in your employ – a Kayla Bruckmann. Do you happen to know if she's in today?"

"And who is asking," the woman replied, eyeing them.

"We are-"

"Federal agent," Gibbs declared, taking out his credentials and moving toward the desk. Ducky sighed, giving Gibbs a look.

"Oh, let me get my manager," the secretary said quickly, leaving her post.

"Now Jethro, was that really necessary?"

"What?" Gibbs said, holding out his hands.

"Really, must you always use such … drastic measures."

"Didn't pull my gun," he offered with a smirk. "Besides, you got a better idea?"

"I had it handled … these things take a bit of finesse. And we don't need the agency involved right now, do we? You're supposed to be on sabbatical."

"Don't have time for finesse, Duck," Gibbs shrugged.

Ducky was about to respond when the secretary came back with an older man in his mid-50s.

"Gentlemen, I'm Dr. Phillips, head of operations here," he said, shaking their hands. "How can I help you?"

"We're looking for a Kayla Bruckmann," Gibbs explained. "We believe this is her work address."

"She in some sort of trouble?"

Ducky shot Gibbs a look.

"No, nothing like that," Gibbs replied shortly.

"Well, I didn't think so," Dr. Phillips said, breathing a sigh of relief. "Brilliant woman, it's really such a shame…"

"Pardon?" Ducky asked, seeing the color go out of Gibbs' face.

"She, um … she's on leave. I can give you her number and address if you need to talk to her."

"We do," Gibbs said assertively. "What did you mean, 'it's a shame?'"

"I've, uh, I've said to much. You should talk to her."

"Well, now I'm talking to you," Gibbs responded strongly, getting in the doctor's space. Ducky pulled him back.

"Jethro, why don't we take the good man's advice? We do still need to speak with her, anyhow."

Gibbs pursed his lips but nodded in agreement, watching as the secretary jotted down the information and handed it to him.

"Thank you very much for your time," Ducky said, tipping his hat as he and Gibbs made their way out of the office. When they were back in the elevator, Ducky turned to Gibbs, annoyed. "You could have been a bit more cordial."

"He's hidin' something," Gibbs replied, looking down at the information.

"Agreed, but we have that for which we came. What do you propose next? A phone call?"

"No," Gibbs rasped. "House call."

 **NCIS Headquarters**

 **7:40PM**

"Hey, Carol, thanks for agreeing to video chat," McGee said as he waved to her via his computer. He was in the conference room with the door locked. He wanted some privacy, as he knew this was a delicate matter. Carol was not just any scientist – she was Abby's old college friend and had taken her death particularly hard – so much so that she hadn't gone to the funeral. She also seemed to have a real chip on her should where Gibbs was concerned.

"So," McGee continued, "how's the CDC treating you?"

"Oh, you know, if it's not Ebola it's a new strain of E-Coli threatening to wipe us all out," Carol sighed. McGee smirked at first but then, noticing that she remained serious, his face dropped. "Don't worry McGee," she reassured him. "I'm joking. Mostly."

"Sorry, it's just that now with the twins I get anxious about everything."

"Understandable – and they are getting so big! Thank you for that last picture of them in their matching Star Wars-themed onesies. They're too cute. But I don't think you called to fill me in on your adorable offspring, so what's up?"

McGee nodded, getting down to business. "I need your help," he said in a desperate voice.

"If this is about your needing a new lab person, you know how I feel about NCIS right now," she said in a cold tone.

"Gibbs isn't here," McGee said flatly. "I'm team leader and I'm dealing with a couple of fed newbies who don't know a flask from a Y-Tube. It'd just be a temporary thing until we can find someone … or until Gibbs gets back."

"Where is Mr. Cut and Run?" Carol asked sharply.

"Not sure, he wouldn't say."

"Gotta love that about Gibbs, always there when you need him most," she replied sarcastically. "Look, Tim, I don't know if I can do this. Being in _her_ lab, working with _her_ team … we've talked about this. When she … I still can't believe she's gone."

McGee teared up. "Me too," he rasped. "But I think Abby would have appreciated someone she knew and cared about stepping up for her. And I get it, _believe me_ I do. I know how painful it can be. I'm spending hours there myself trying to fix these newbies' mistakes, and I just can't do it anymore, Carol. I'm a wreck, I'm no good to my family, and the team is exhausted. It's all been too much, and I just need a little help. Nothing permanent."

Seeing the pain in McGee's eyes, Carol sighed heavily. "OK," she whispered, a tear running down her cheek. She quickly wiped it away. "I've got some time off coming to me, and I owe you for what you did for my nephew Fischer all those years back. And you're right – Abby wouldn't want strangers mucking up her lab."

"Great!" McGee exclaimed. "You're a God-send! Thank you! You have no idea how much this means to us. Let me know when you're free to come out. I've already cleared it with Vance."

"I'll be out to you tomorrow," she reassured him. "But you better not be breathing down my neck every day, or I'm out."

"Oh no, totally hands-off," McGee replied, but could see her skeptical look. "I mean it."

"And the minute Gibbs gets back from his little hiatus, I'm out," she added sternly.

McGee closed his eyes, knowing now was not the time to get into her issues with his boss. "I understand, Carol."

"OK, then … see you tomorrow, Tim," she said. "Hug those kiddos for me."

"Will do," he smiled as she closed out the video chat. Things were finally beginning to look up.

 **New York City**

 **Ducky's Apartment**

 **8:45PM**

"I believe it's your move, Jethro," Ducky noted, eyeing the chessboard in front of him. They were seated at a small table in his apartment.

"Yea, sorry," Gibbs replied quickly, refocusing on the game. He moved his King to the right.

"Where were you?" Ducky asked as he studied the board.

"Um, right here, Duck," he said simply.

"You seemed miles away. Anything to do with deciding to postpone our visit to the mysterious Kayla Bruckmann?"

Gibbs sighed, leaning back in his chair, cupping his hands behind his head.

"Been botherin' me, what that Dr. Phillips said," Gibbs admitted. "Not sure what I'm walking into here."

"We could place a phone call. I could-"

"No," Gibbs replied.

"Well then, what do you propose?" Ducky asked, moving his pawn to the left.

Gibbs shrugged, staring at the board, avoiding the question.

"What are you afraid of, Jethro?"

Pursing his lips, Gibbs frowned, swallowing. "Something's off."

"How do you know?"

"Just my gut," he replied matter-of-factly.

"Well, you won't know for certain by spending another day cooped up in this apartment."

Gibbs nodded, shifting his Queen to the left. "Your move, Duck."

"Check," Ducky declared, moving his Bishop to Gibbs' King. "And it seems to me, dear boy, that it is _your_ move. In more ways than one."

"Not a lot of options," Gibbs commented, not just referring to the chessboard.

"There is one," Ducky replied.

"I don't see it."

"And that is why I am here to help you," Ducky reassured him, pointing to his pawn, which could block his King. Gibbs eyes widened, seeing the move, and then looked back to Ducky, who was smiling.

"Lettin' me win, Duck?" he smirked, moving his piece.

"Just helping you along. You haven't won yet. And Jethro, I wasn't just talking about our match."

"I know … just … scared, Ducky."

Ducky gave him an affectionate look, touched by his honesty. "I believe it was Nelson Mandela who said, 'The brave man is not he who does not feel afraid, but he who conquers that fear.'"

"So what do you prescribe, doc?" Gibbs asked.

"Press your shirt and air out that suit," Ducky said, getting up. "Tomorrow, we make a house call and find you some peace of mind."

Gibbs nodded, yawning.

"And do try to get some sleep," Ducky added, walking toward the bathroom. "You look like hell, Jethro. Don't want to scare the poor girl, now do we?"

Smirking, Gibbs stood up and pulled out the suit he wore to Abby's funeral. He would get his answers tomorrow, whatever they may be.

 **TO BE CONTINUED…**


	7. Update on this story

**Update on this story …**

This story is "on hiatus" for now as I try to finish my other work in progress, "Post-Traumatic." I was very disappointed with the way Abby exited on the show, and it made this particular story a bit more difficult to write. Gibbs seems like he couldn't care less about Abby's on-screen departure, and I refuse to believe that's true to his character, but it does make this story, and where I was heading with it, seem somewhat implausible. I have an idea for the rest of it, and hopefully will get back to finishing it at some point, but right now the focus is on finishing what I started with "Post-Traumatic," a story that I did my best to line up with the canon of the show. Thanks for reading … To Be Continued…


End file.
